


Trip Down The Strip

by Brokenwords



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 14k of porn, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Army AU, Bad Puns, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes in Lingerie, Dom Steve Rogers, M/M, Mild S&M, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sam is a Saint, Service Top Steve, Stripper Bucky, Stucky - Freeform, Top Steve Rogers, mild choking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:07:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26369206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brokenwords/pseuds/Brokenwords
Summary: Steve was never sure how Natasha talked him into these sorts of situations. One minute he was landing stateside, looking forward to a cold beer and sleeping for a week. The next minute he was standing in front of a black façade marqueed with the words GET PUNISHED Male Strippers with Sam on one side and Natasha on the other.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 96
Kudos: 518





	Trip Down The Strip

* * *

* * *

>

Steve was never sure how Natasha talked him into these sorts of situations. One minute he was landing stateside, looking forward to a cold beer and sleeping for a week. The next he was standing in front of a black façade marqueed with the words _GET PUNISHED Male Strippers_ , Sam on one side and Natasha on the other.

Steve stared, wondering if this was a joke, but knowing it wasn’t.

“Damn Nat,” Sam whistled lowly. “I’d say I was surprised but honestly…” He trailed off at the arched brow she gave him and shrugged unapologetically.

She smirked, “No, continue Sam, honestly what.”

He laughed good naturedly. “Honestly, I should have known when you said it was your birthday, you’d take us on an adventure.”

She grinned evilly. “So you’re in? No backing out due to some sort of repressed homophobic bullshit?”

Sam gasped and threw a hand toward his chest. “Just because I’m partial to womanly curves does not mean I can’t appreciate a nice set of abs.” He grinned again and patted Steve on the belly. “Like this fella’s. I need some cheese grated, I know just where to go.”

The motion finally snapped Steve out of his daze and he threw Sam a chastising look.

“Oh shit,” Sam whispered dramatically. “He’s giving me the ‘I’m disappointed in you’ stare. What do I do?”

Natasha laughed and patted Steve on the arm. “Come on big boy. You gonna stand out here all night looking like a scared kitten trying to be stern, or are you gonna help me celebrate my birthday with a little bit of naked man booty?”

“I hate both of you,” Steve muttered, but he let himself be dragged towards the building. There was a line down the block, plenty of tipsy gal pals and a smaller number of men, screaming and laughing with their friends.

Natasha ignored them all and walked up to the bouncer, gave him a sly grin and said, “We’re on the list.”

***

Inside the club the air was hot and sticky, the scent of booze, sweat and body oil permeating the overworked air conditioning and leaving Steve feeling unmoored. That, combined with the flashing lights and sounds thumping through the room, messed with his perceptions, and he cringed a little knowing that he wouldn’t be able to see or hear an enemy approaching in this situation. He rubbed a hand over his face, reminding himself that he was in New York, not the desert, and he still had two of his best protecting his flank. Even in a room this crowded. There was no reason to be paranoid. It was Natasha’s birthday and she wanted to have a fun night out, so he’d do his best to provide.

Strong fingers curled around his wrist and he heard Sam shout over the din, “You alright, Cap?”

He shrugged off the nerves and nodded. “Just trying to figure out how Nat talked us into this,” he shouted back with a wry grin. Sam smirked back but his eyes were a bit too knowing for Steve’s comfort.

The next second Natasha appeared from his right and motioned with a toss of her head for them to follow. She brought them to a secluded corner, roped off from the rest of the crowd with a perfect view of the main stage. Steve looked around the small space with relief. Two walls to put their backs to and a view of the entire bar. He felt silly now. Of course Natasha would manage to find and reserve the most secure section of any room.

Settling into one of the plush seats facing the stage, Steve felt some of the tension in his shoulders unwind. Natasha grinned at him, flung herself down beside him as Sam did the same on the other side, and waved over a waiter. The shirtless man arrived a moment later and Steve raised his eyebrows as Nat ordered a bottle of vodka and several pitchers of beer. She looked at him with a grin, “We’re on leave Cap. It’s time to relax.” She paused for a moment then leaned closer, “Besides, this club is owned by Tony. You better believe I had to blackmail him to have the place monitored while not actually showing up himself. This is about the safest spot in the country tonight.”

The rest of the tension didn’t quite slide from Steve’s shoulders but he relaxed another fraction and he heard Sam let out a whoop beside him. The lights on the stage flashed and a voice came on over the music introducing Magic Muscles Marcel. A man strode out to the announcement in a pair of leather chaps and sheer black shirt that left nothing to the imagination. The women in the crowd started to scream as the men hollered. Then the man turned and Steve saw the chaps covered absolutely nothing in the back. Blood rushed across his cheeks and Natasha cackled and joined in on the noise of the crowd. This was going to be an interesting night.

***

Two pitchers of beer later Steve was feeling a lot more magnanimous towards Natasha. He couldn't deny the show was entertaining. The men were certainly appealing and it was nice not to have to veil his attraction. He wasn't ashamed of being bisexual, but even though Don't Ask Don't Tell had been repealed, it was still the army. He was so used to being discreet it was second nature to him now. Sam and Natasha knew, as did the other members of their elite team. When you went on missions like theirs, secrets were things that could get you killed. Still, it was nice to be able to openly admire the muscles on display and idly daydream about having all that skin under his hands.

Slouching deeper into his chair and letting the feel of low grade arousal mixed with beer and the knowledge that his men (and women) were having a good time, Steve took another sip of beer and cheered as the latest man gave one final thrust of his hips and sashayed off the stage. Then the music faded away and silence fell over the room like a blanket. Steve straightened. Then from the sound system came a sound Steve hadn't heard since Basic… the unmistakable commands of a CO shouting the opening lines to a marching cadence. And from backstage the answering call rang out mixed with the thud of heavy boots falling in line.

Steve thudded back in his chair and gave Nat a disbelieving look. He was met with an all too familiar smirk from her and a look of gleeful confusion from Sam.

Then the soldier came out on stage. Dressed like an Army Ranger in combat fatigues cut away into booty shorts and carrying a goddam sniper rifle. And that thing looked real. Steve froze and leaned forward again, immediately assessing the threat. Beside him Natasha rolled her eyes “Relax, Cap. It’s not real,” she muttered. “It’s just a realistic replication done in wood. Now sit back and let that man give you some wood.”

Steve trusted her with his life, but that didn’t mean he relaxed. How could he, when what had to be the hottest man he had seen on either side of his dreams had just marched on stage as if he owned it, holding a giant gun with the ease of someone who actually knew how to use it? Well, he’d always appreciated competency. A shiver of heat ran through his spine and he clenched his fists as the man, still shouting along to the cadence, reached the end of the stage, stood at attention, saluted and yelled “Sir, yes sir!” Then he winked, spun the gun, and set its muzzle to the floor just as the marching beat was taken over by heavy House.

Beside him Steve heard Sam whistle lowly as the man on stage began to gyrate slowly to the rhythm, hips twisting lewdly as he used the gun as a fucking pole to dance around. Steve couldn’t tear his eyes away. He should have been offended at the blatant disrespect for the Uniform. Instead he felt his pants tighten as the man dropped low, body rolling. The gun was flipped again, this time facing out as the stands were flipped down with an ease that spoke of practice. Kneeling beside it, knees spread wide and hips forward, the stripper sent another wink to the crowd as he tore the front of his fatigues open. Where he should have been wearing a t-shirt underneath was just toned, glistening skin.

Delighted screams echoed around the room, and if Steve didn’t pride himself on his control and the knowledge that he was a man in his 30s, he would have been tempted to join in. Hips were thrust up, then back into what Steve was pretty sure was called a Downward Dog in yoga, before the man dropped and started to do sinuous push ups right there on the stage in a mockery of fucking. Tawny skin glistened under the bright lights, muscles rippling. Then the Soldier paused, let his body slide to the ground and peered through the scope. His fingers found the trigger and squeezed. Steve’s heart stopped for a second before confetti rained down on the women in front of the stage. Screams echoed and Steve’s heart thudded in time with the beat as the Soldier looked back up, gave a boyish grin and another salute, before he was rolling back to his knees again.

Every move the Soldier made was effortless and every sweeping transition was anticipated eagerly by the whole room. First, he flexed his biceps for the crowd, just subtle enough with his hands on his hips that it could pass for nonchalant. Then, fingers moving towards his belt, he began shifting his weight lower and lower and swinging his hips more and more, and the pitch of the screaming increased in reply. Steve, too, was mesmerised by the slick undulation of stomach muscles and fingers working at a trick belt buckle. So mesmerised, he completely missed when the man on stage lifted his chin and let his gaze rove over the seating area.

For anyone who had been anticipating sterile flexing for twenty minutes by a fedora-wearing, leather-clad gym-rat, the performance was a sharp wakeup call. By the time the Soldier was go-go-ing his way through what could only be described as a full set of squats with a lewd twist, Steve could see that he was breathing hard. The tight, camo-print insult to the infantry he was wearing as shorts were hiding nothing as he swiveled and undulated. His hands travelled up and down his body in ways that made Steve barely able to stop his imagination from running wild.

Steve was so busy enjoying the show that he didn’t notice that after his first perusal of the seats, the eyes from the stage hadn’t moved from their clutch of sofas, narrowed suspiciously and flicking darkly between Steve, Sam and Natasha, resting the longest on the lone woman in the group.

Hips thrusting, shoulders glistening and hair flying, it was to a veritable snowstorm of dollar bills that the thudding bassline finally ended it’s thrawl and the man on stage lay dramatically waiting for the flurry of tips to cease, delicately running his fingers over the notes and making lewd eye contact with the patrons closest to the stage.

Steve needed another drink. Reaching for one of the pitchers of beer, he poured himself another glass and proceeded to chug it while he tried to process the show he’d just watched, while simultaneously trying to will his cock to stand the fuck down. The crowd had gone wild for the Soldier’s performance and Steve could not blame them. The man was sex incarnate and he had been going on close to a year-long dry spell. There weren’t a lot of opportunities to get laid when you were on active duty, not in the areas they were sent to, especially not if you were the captain and fraternization with those below you was both forbidden and morally questionable. Steve loved being in charge in the bedroom but he hated the idea that anyone beneath him would feel pressured to be there. Besides, in general Steve liked to think sex was something done in private and there was no privacy in the army. So, Steve kept it in his pants. This Soldier, however, had waltzed right on stage like something out of a wet dream and proceeded to make Steve question every thought he’d ever had about uniforms and their sex appeal. He was never going to be able to look at his fellow men again without blushing.

Placing his now empty glass on the table Steve groaned and rubbed a hand down his face. “I hate you”, he reiterated in the direction of Natasha.

“No you don’t,” it was Sam that answered. “Fuck. Just for that show I might buy Nat a new gun. That man can shake his booty like it’s a pair of tits at mardi gras! I didn’t know you white boys could move like that.”

Steve groaned again and gave Sam a glare. “Really, Sam?”

“Don’t go all ‘I’m disappointed in you Sam’ on me again. I can see how much you enjoyed it,” Sam nodded to Steve’s crotch making Steve feel like his face had been lit on fire.

“Fuck,” he whispered more to himself than anything, covering his face again with his hands.

“That’s the spirit,” Sam chortled, slapping him on the shoulder. “Personally, I’d be more concerned over the fact that Nat’s disappeared.”

Steve froze. Dropping his hands slowly from his face he looked over and saw Sam was right. Nat was gone. Shit. He hadn’t even noticed her leave.

***

Natasha had the best ideas. She loved Steve, she really did, but the man needed to learn how to let go once in a while. He carried the world on his shoulders and didn’t know the meaning of the word ‘unwind’. He was a cork ready to pop and as his Lieutenant she figured it was up to her to find him a nice place to lay down his woes, before he went off on his own and took someone's eye out.

Plus, there was James. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. James had more problems than he knew what to do with. Steve probably didn’t need that sort of trauma dumped on his lap but at the same time… Steve was always in need of a cause, and she might as well give him one with a set of slick abs and thighs that could crush a watermelon.

Quiet as a mouse she slid through the crowd, deftly side stepping sticky spots of booze and splatters of oil from the current act on stage. Getting past the bouncer into the back room was simply a matter of waiting for the right distraction.

Backstage, the sound of the stage was muffled into just the heavy thud of the bass and the sound of low talking coming from the room to her right. Pushing open the door she was met with the sight of a half dozen mostly naked men taking part in a variety of exercises that mostly seemed to involve slicking themselves up, pumping iron, practicing moves or getting dressed. At the back of the room, James Buchanan Barnes, also known as the Soldier, was leaning against the floor to ceiling mirror and glaring directly at her.

Natasha smirked.

“Out,” James growled.

One of the other men looked up, “What?” He asked, then noticed Natasha in the doorway. “The fuck?” he finished with. “Dude, girlfriends aren’t allowed back here, you know that.”

“She is NOT my girlfriend,” James glared harder. “That's like playing Russian roulette with a gun to your dick.”

“Now, now, James,” Natasha purred as she waltzed into the room. “That’s no way to greet an old comrade in arms is it?” All around her the room quieted as she made herself at home in the small space, strolling through a veritable bouquet of muscles and stopping in front of her target. “Besides, I only came in here because I knew after you saw me you’d chicken out and I have a proposition for you.”

James closed his eyes much in the same way Steve had earlier that night. “First off, it’s Bucky. Stop calling me James. And second of all, no,” he grunted. “I don’t even want to hear it.”

“Three hundred dollars for a lap dance says you do,” Natasha bargained.

“I’ll do it!” someone piped up.

Bucky cracked one eyelid and looked at her. “You couldn’t pay me enough to give you a lap dance.”

“It’s not for me. I know you saw tall, blonde and handsome out there. You could barely keep your eyes off him.”

“I’m definitely not giving your date a lap dance in front of you.”

Natasha wrinkled her nose in disgust. “No. Just no. Though I’m flattered that my opinion of your dancing skills matters so much to you, that you’re too embarrassed to display them in front of me.”

“That’s–” Bucky stopped and cursed lowly. The sneaky little witch knew he couldn’t resist a challenge. He blew out heavily through his nose and rolled his eyes heavenward. “Four hundred up front, and my shorts better be stuffed with enough tips to fund my retirement by the end. If this is another one of your pet projects Nat, I swear to god. Please tell me this isn’t some sort of test and the man is straight.”

“That man is about as straight as a wet noodle. He just works too hard and needs to be shown a good time.” Natasha stated as she pulled a roll of twenties out from somewhere in the impossibly tight outfit she had on. Bucky snatched it and counted it out. It was exactly four hundred dollars. Of course it was. The woman was terrifying.

With another deep sigh and the feeling he’d regret this, Bucky nodded slowly. Shoving the cash into his combat boots he gave her one more glare for posterity. “I also require vodka,” he added.

One perfectly shaped eyebrow arched up. “Darling,” she patted his sticky chest, “The bottle is already waiting for you on the table.” And with that she turned and waltzed right back out the way she’d come, leaving a room full of men mostly confused and maybe just a little turned on, and one richer and more pissed off. Just before she exited the room, she turned and added, “Don’t take too long James. I wouldn’t want to think you were scared.”

“You’d be dead without me!” James shouted back, but she was already gone.

***

Natasha strolled back into the VIP booth with a smirk on her face. Both Steve and Sam were eyeing her warily. She really did appreciate the fact that all her boys were at least moderately terrified of her. It was an image she worked hard on maintaining.

“Do I want to know where you disappeared to?” Steve asked with a small frown.

She tsked at him. “It’s my birthday, Cap. I’m just making sure the entertainment is up to par.”

“Now that really sounds scary,” was muttered under Steve’s breath before he added louder, “Speaking of entertainment, do I want to know how you found a strip club that just happened to have a stripper dressed like a sniper in an Army Ranger uniform?”

“Oh, Cap,” She smiled, benign. “I didn’t happen to find anything. The Soldier isn’t just dressed like a sniper. He was a sniper, a record holding one in fact, and he spent some time in the Rangers.”

*

Sam muttered an admiring exclamation beside him, but Steve just stared blankly. “Was?” he coughed. He couldn’t imagine what sort of situation left a sniper in the army stripping for cash on stage.

Natasha however only smirked back at him, and purred, “I’ll let him tell you all about it.”

Warning bells went off in Steve’s head a moment too late. Before he could even ask, the stripper in question was sliding into their booth, bare chest glistening and darkly lined eyes glaring daggers at Natasha even as full lips settled into a smirk.

Steve froze for the third time that night, fingers curling into the armrest of his chair. Beside him he heard Sam whisper, “Damn, son.”

The Soldier stopped directly in front of Steve, snapped to attention and with an insolent twist of his lips saluted, “Reporting for lap-dance duty, Sir!”

Sam snorted. Natasha grinned. Steve felt like the chair disappeared beneath him.

“Um,” Steve stammered.

“Come on, Cap,” Natasha leaned over. “The man wants to help you stand at attention.”

“Friendly fire, Nat,” Steve growled, “I can make it look like an accident.”

Suddenly the man in front of him grinned bright and Steve’s breath caught. “Oh I like you,” the Soldier purred, voice low and smokey. Toned arms reached forward and settled on Steve’s shoulders. “Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to get into formation and show you a good time. Rules are that only I’m allowed to touch you, no touching me, and tell me if I do something you don’t like… or something you especially like,” he added with a wink.

Steve should say no, he should. He was sure his face was bright red and holy saints this was going to be mortifying. And yet he couldn’t bring himself to do anything other than nod. How did you say no to a man that looked like pure sin and was asking to straddle you with thighs that Steve was pretty sure was bigger than his own? In any other situation Steve would have been salivating at the thought of tugging this man into his lap and having his way with him.

“I need an adult,” he heard Sam whisper even as Natasha laughed, loud and bright. Steve didn’t care, all he cared about was the fact that the Soldier had just slid over his lap, knees bracing on the chair on either side of him, breath gusting across his cheek, damp and warm.

“Now I’m assuming by your nickname you are a Captain,” the words were breathed into his ear. “I was a Sergeant back in the day. That would make you my superior. You gonna give me some orders, sir?”

Steve’s headstone was going to read ‘died of a heart attack at the hands of the hottest man in existence’. Gulping audibly, embarrassment coursing through his veins he tried desperately to think of a witty retort. Anything to not look like the bumbling tongue tied idiot he was currently emulating. He cleared his throat, brain searching for all the shit pickup lines he’d heard in his day and finally going with, “Permission to advance, Soldier.”

The Soldier barked out a laugh then ground down, twisting his hips in a way that sent tingles zipping through Steve’s groin. Fingers trailed down his chest, pressing and petting over pecs and smoothing down a taut stomach. Fuck. Steve was going to break the seam in his pants if this went on too long. “Uncle Sam ain’t the only one who wants you,” the man purred into Steve’s ear, even as he slid two fingers under Steve’s t-shirt and caressed the skin just above his jeans.

“Christ,” Steve swore.

“Mmm Bucky actually,” came the retort.

Steve’s eyes flew from where they were fixated on the ripple of the Soldier’s abs. “Bucky?”

He got a wink. “I figure, friend of Natasha and all, though I can’t decide what that says about your taste.”

“Hey!” Natasha piped up.

“Didn’t pick her,” Steve groaned as the Soldier, no, Bucky, slid to his feet only to turn around and slide back down, ass landing firmly on Steve’s lap and grinding down. “She was assigned to my team and I haven’t managed to get her reassigned yet.”

Bucky arched his back, head coming to rest on the front of Steve’s shoulder as he laughed, bright and beautiful.

“My face is the last thing either of you are going to see,” Natasha threatened, cheerfully.

Out of the corner of his eye Steve saw Sam abruptly stand up. “Yup, okay. That’s enough watching my CO fuck in public. Natasha,” He gestured with a nod to the bar, “Next round on me, at the bar?”

Natasha arched one eyebrow, looked at the pair next to her and hid a smirk. She really did have the best ideas. Slowly getting to her feet she stepped over to Sam, took his arm and said, “You are taking away all my fun. I hope you know that means you’re the entertainment now.”

If Steve hadn’t been so invested in the body on top of him he would have seen the flush high on Sam’s cheekbones at Natasha’s words, would have teased him about it too. Instead he was too busy trying to take in the flex of thigh muscles as Bucky hovered above him, turning to straddle him again, stomach undulating and causing his ass to brush consistently across Steve’s growing hard on.

The arms of the chair Steve was in creaked ominously as he squeezed his fingers around the wood, desperate to stop himself from touching without permission. Bucky paused from where he’d just flicked the button of his shorts undone. “Did that chair do you harm there, Cap?”

“Steve,” Steve abruptly realized he hadn’t given his name in return. “My name,” he added. “And I am trying to be good.”

Bucky tilted his head to the side. His tongue dipped out to wet his lip and the chair creaked again. Eyebrow rose judgmentally.

“I didn’t get to be captain without first learning how to follow orders,” Steve elaborated. When Bucky still said nothing he added, “If I wasn’t concerned about getting kicked out and I had your permission I wouldn’t be gripping the chair.”

“Oh, go on,” Bucky looked positively delighted at the admission. “Tell me Steve, what would you be squeezing hard enough to bruise?”

Something shorted out in Steve's brain momentarily. Visions of lean hips and a perky ass stained red with fingerprints danced through his imagination. He could cop out here, make up some sort of stuttered excuse, he wanted to even. But the look in Bucky’s eye was challenging, just daring Steve to admit what he wanted to do. That in mind, he went with, “If you wanted it, I’d be holding you down hard enough you’d bruise yourself just trying to get some friction.”

It was clear from the widening of Bucky’s eyes he wasn’t expecting that answer. But it was also clear from the way he shivered and pressed down harder into Steve’s lap that he didn’t mind the words either. “I think I’d let you,” was murmured into Steve’s ear.

Steve groaned in time with the creaking of the chair arms. “Do you drive all your customers this crazy?” He blurted.

Bucky paused in his motions and for a moment Steve was scared he’d misstepped. An apology, though for what he wasn’t sure, lay heavy on his tongue. But then Bucky shook his head, long hair brushing cheek bones. “Cap,” He said seriously, “Most of my clientele are women and are too busy screaming and fanning themselves to have a conversation with.”

“This is a conversation?”

Bucky smirked, lifting up on his knees, “Well, I was trying to flirt, but since you’re bringing up my other clients I’m not sure you have any blood left in your brain to comprehend that.” He shimmied back down, pressing obscenely close to emphasize his point.

“I, um,” Steve stumbled over his words. “What?” He wasn’t as naïve as he sometimes pretended to be. Strippers flirted. That’s how they made their tips.

Burying his face against the side of Steve’s, lips pressed against his ear, Bucky whispered, “God, have you even looked in a mirror? I want to climb you like a goddamn tree, fuck your tits and then ride you into the sunset. I might be getting paid to do this right now, but I only have two more sets left for the night if you want to stick around.”

Steve blinked, then blinked again. “I—what?” he asked again.

Teeth nipped along his jawline. “Christ Steve, I’m asking you to wait for me to get off work so we can go get off. Together. As in fuck. Do I need to spell it out some more?” Bucky drew away as he spoke, arching one eyebrow at the man beneath him. The man was pretty, and Bucky was positive Nat wouldn’t take orders from an idiot, but...

Clearing his throat and forcing himself to make eye contact, even though embarrassment and need coursed through him, Steve replied, “No, I mean yes. Yes I do, I mean I will, stay that is. I-I just didn’t think you were being serious.”

Bucky eyed him incredulously. “Do you really think I proposition all my clients? I’m not a whore, not that there is anything wrong with being a sex worker if thats what you want to be.”

“No!” Steve let go of the chair, hands reaching for Bucky’s waist before remembering himself and placing them back down on the arm rests. “No, I don’t think that. Or think bad about sex workers, I just, I thought strippers flirted for tips is all, and I wasn’t sure, I just didn’t want to presume and…”

A finger across his mouth shut Steve up mid sentence. “Okay big guy. Calm your magnificent tits. Clearly you don’t get out much, but since you’re so pretty, and you look like you could pick me up and toss me around, I’ll let it slide. Especially since in all that stammering I heard you say you were going to stay and wait for me.”

Christ. Steve didn’t think he could get more turned on, but there he was, responding like he was a dog desperate for his master’s attention at the words. If he had a tail it would probably be wagging. Face crimson, he just nodded. He knew by the absolutely helpless way he was acting that no one would ever guess he actually enjoyed bossing people around, that he led men and women into battle. People looked up to him, depended on him and his orders. And here he was being brought to his proverbial knees by a gorgeous, barely clad stranger. Hell if this was an interrogation he’d have been tempted to spill all his secrets. Maybe he should suggest it to the brass, screw torture, send in the strippers — or maybe just this particular stripper.

Above him Bucky just smirked at Steve’s reaction. Trailing his fingers over Steve’s jaw he smoothed his thumb over plush lips. Then a frown suddenly marred his features. “I’m going to owe Natasha, aren’t I,” he muttered.

Steve gave a short, helpless laugh. “Probably,” he answered. “I don’t even want to know what she is going to demand from me after this. I’m supposed to be her CO.”

With a deep sigh, Bucky slowly withdrew from Steve’s lap. “And on that terrifying note, I need to get back on stage. I refuse to be here when she comes back to gloat.”

“Sure,” Steve resisted the urge to reach out and hold on. “Just leave me to face the gallows alone.”

“Judging but what I just felt underneath me, you could take on an entire armada alone and win.” Bucky teased.

“I’d rather face armies than Natasha,” Steve groused. It got another bright laugh out of Bucky and Steve felt his heart clench. Moody was a good look on the man, but that unabashed laughter was even better. Steve could get addicted to that sound, and the body that came with it. He let his eyes rove over all that smooth skin once more, eyes catching on the tiny shorts, unbuttoned and doing very little to hide just how much Bucky hadn’t been lying about his attraction to him. He swallowed. Then his eyes caught on a dollar bill that was peeking out from above the waistband. “Oh! Tips. Shit. Sorry. ” He dug in his pocket, only to have his wrist caught and stopped.

“Lets just say you can give me more than just the tip later.” Bucky purred, squeezing Steve’s wrist once before letting go. Before Steve could reply he was gone, snagging one of the bottles of vodka from the table on his way out.

***

From the bar Sam watched the Soldier, or Bucky as he’d called himself, walk away from Steve, leaving his CO a disheveled mess. He laughed softly and looked over at Natasha. “I can’t tell if you did this for Steve or for your own entertainment.”

Natasha looked up at him and gave him an evil grin. “Who says it has to be one or the other?”

“True,” Sam agreed. “But tell me, how exactly do you know this Bucky character?”

Narrowing her eyes and studying Sam for a moment, Natasha paused, judging Sam’s interest. Then she answered honestly, “We worked special ops together before I joined Steve’s team. There was an _incident._ The brass covered it up, blamed Barnes. He was dishonourably discharged and now he’s a stripper instead of a sniper.”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up. “And you are trying to set Steve up with him, why?”

“Because he is a good man, and a better sniper, and he deserves better.”

“And so now...”

“And now,” Natasha said fiercely, “Steve is going to fall in love with him, adopt him as his cause, and fix it.”

Sam took in Natasha’s expression, and found himself nodding slowly. He wanted to argue, say that was a stupid plan – Sam knew what a dishonorable discharge meant, it was tantamount to a significant criminal record. But looking at her, then looking over at the way Steve was still staring in the vague direction Bucky had disappeared, he thought, maybe, she was right. He learned a long time ago that it was better to just follow Natasha’s lead. He swore she was smarter than all of them and if she wanted to she could run the world. Giving a soft breath of laughter, he nodded again. “Well alright then. What do you say we go over and see how much more we can embarrass Steve before the night is out.” He offered his arm. Natasha slipped her hand through it and squeezed. It was her way of saying thanks.

“Yes,” she replied. “I don’t think he’s quite as red as he could be. We should probably test that.”

****

The rest of the night went by Steve in a blur of slicked skin whenever Bucky was on stage, teasing touches whenever he wasn’t, and taunts from Natasha and Sam. It felt both incredibly good and completely, painfully, burningly inadequate.

Sam was being a nightmare, casually pointing out Bucky’s different outfits in a smooth voice by Steve’s ear. “Oh _now_ he’s wearing black sequins, Steve, look at that. Night ops.” Which made Romanoff snort with undignified laughter and mutter, ‘bedroom ops, maybe’, while Steve attempted not to notice how the glitzy black outfit made Bucky’s pecks look like _that_.

By the time the last call rolled around, Bucky’s final pair of (airforce blue, gold trim) shorts were stuffed so full of bills, he was stuffing them into the harness strapped across his chest. He’d been working the crowd all night, glitter and sweat making his skin shimmer as he teased. Steve hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of him, especially not knowing that as long as Bucky didn’t change his mind, Steve would get to spend the night touching instead of just looking.

Reaching for his water, Steve took a slow sip and tried to be patient. He’d switched to non-alcoholic drinks as soon as Bucky had propositioned him. He wasn’t about to fuck someone as beautiful as Bucky while drunk. He intended to be fully sober so he could remember every second.

Sam and Natasha had left at last call. They’d been full of laughter and teasing and booze, and while part of Steve wanted to follow them out, make sure they got into a cab safe, he knew that drunk or not they could both handle themselves. So he stayed and waited.

And then Bucky was there in front of him, breathtaking in a pair of ratty jeans and a t-shirt. Steve fought the urge to groan at the sight as he stood up, noticing for the first time that he was taller than Bucky.

“Still with me, Cap?” Bucky teased.

Steve nodded, swallowing dryly.

*

The subway ride to Bucky’s apartment was fraught with tension. Even at 2am there were still enough people that Steve felt shy about the frequent touches Bucky brushed against his skin. They were innocent enough, just fingertips grazing his arm, his neck, the small of his back under his shirt, but in the bright fluorescent light it felt electric, like the entire world could see them. Shuddering, Steve said a soft prayer under his breath as he felt Bucky’s fingers dip beneath the waistband of his jeans. In the brightness he looked different, smudged eyeliner highlighting the mischief in his eyes, the faint stubble on his cheeks clear, the dusting of glitter over his cheekbones shimmering in the light. He was gorgeous. In the dim light of the club he’d been pure sex appeal, on the train he was something Steve wanted to kiss breathless then make breakfast for in the morning.

“Whatcha thinking about with that look on your face?” Bucky’s laughter was soft and teasing.

Steve hummed a little. “That I’m already in too deep,” he answered honestly. Honesty was the best policy wasn’t it? He prayed, even as the words left his mouth, that he wasn’t coming on too strong. This was a one night stand, or he was pretty sure that was what this was meant to be. The way Bucky’s eyes softened as they glittered up at him made him wonder. Maybe he wasn’t the only one that was intrigued by more than just a pretty face.

Throughout the night Natasha had been tight lipped about Bucky. Oh, she’d hinted at things. Told Steve that Bucky was a good man, a fantastic sniper, that he’d left the army but not why, that he could hold his breath for four minutes (and Steve had found himself fighting the urge to squirm in his seat at that tidbit of information). She’d even mentioned that they’d been in the same unit. But any information beyond that was a mystery. If Steve tried to pry, like ask when or why he’d left the army, how old he was, anything personal, she’d just get that look in her eye, the one Steve hated to admit he was afraid of, and smirk at him.

Now however, in that awkward phase between agreeing to go home and actually getting there, Steve couldn’t help wonder about the man currently attempting to drive him mad. He wanted to ask, felt his mouth open to start forming the words even, but then the look in Bucky’s eyes changed from serious to devilish and he purred, “Well, I certainly hope something is going deep. I felt what was in your pants, Captain, and I feel like I was promised a demonstration.”

Steve couldn’t help it, he laughed. Reaching around, he grabbed Bucky’s wrists and dragged them in front of him. He squeezed them lightly and watched as a flush rose in Bucky’s cheeks. Interesting. “Eyes forward soldier, we’re still in enemy territory.”

“Just making sure all my assets are primed and ready to go sir,” Bucky grinned back at him.

Releasing Bucky’s wrists, Steve wiped a hand over his face and fought the urge to blush. “Trust me,” he whispered, “Everything is primed. Just please tell me we are almost at home base.”

“Two more stops,” came the answer and Steve sighed in relief.

***

Bucky’s apartment wasn’t in the greatest area of town. If Steve didn’t already know the man was an ex-Ranger and could defend himself, he would have been worried. The apartment itself, while only one room, was clean and cosy, and well looked after. It was nicer than anything Steve had called home in a long time. Normally when he was back in town he crashed on friend’s couches or rented a hotel room. It wasn’t worth keeping a place when he was so rarely back in New York. What few possessions he had were in storage upstate and that was it. He looked around with a sort of childish glee, taking in the tiny kitchen, rugs and throws, the clothes hanging neatly from a rack in a corner. Everything had its place, neat as a pin but not cold. Even the bed was made, corners perfect in what had to be remnants of Bucky’s army days.

He was still looking around when fingers wrapped around his shirt and twisted. “Done checking if my bunk is neat enough, Captain?” Bucky taunted, even though there was a hint of something in his tone Steve wasn’t sure about. Unease, maybe nerves.

Unsure what to say, wanting to assure Bucky that his place was perfect, but also not feeling like it was his place, Steve tried to match the tone. “I don’t know, soldier, I might have to check those corners.”

“Make sure there is no contraband under those sheets?”

Steve cursed his fair, irish complexion for what had to be the hundredth time that night as he imagined everything that might be under those sheets in a little bit. Cheeks hot but refusing to acknowledge it, he smirked and crowded Bucky closer to the bed, slow in case Bucky changed his mind. When they got there, he spun them gently, sitting down and pulling Bucky back into his lap. Once he got Bucky back in his lap however he paused, suddenly a bit unsure.

“There are no rules saying you can’t touch in here Cap,” Bucky solved the problem, already tugging at Steve’s shirt, desperate to see all the skin he’d been denied so far.

Steve swallowed, even as he lifted his arms and let Bucky pull his shirt off. A groan from the other had him flushing at the non-verbal praise. Dropping one hand to Bucky’s hip he gripped tight and pulled the other close even as his other hand wrapped around the back of Bucky’s neck, tugging him down. “What are the rules about kissing?” he asked softly.

“No rules,” Bucky let himself be dragged down, “Just that you do a lot of it.” Damp lips parted expectantly and Steve was all too happy to surge up and meet him. It was hot and slick, fast and slow, teeth nipping and tongues brushing. His fingers tightened unconsciously against Bucky’s neck, sparking a low moan that echoed all the way down to his toes.

Steve found himself relaxing at the way Bucky responded so openly. They were on Bucky’s bed, his shirt was already gone, and the hardness pressed into his belly told him he didn’t have to be nervous anymore. This was happening and now that Steve was sure he felt his confidence start to return. “You like that, sergeant?” he teased softly,

For a moment, Bucky's face melted into an expression of surrender before morphing into something far more mischievous. "I'm not in the army anymore, Cap," he taunted with a small smirk, "but if you ask real pretty I might still call you sir."

A frisson of understanding went through Steve and he remembered some of the comments made throughout the night. “Oh,” he whispered between kisses. He tightened his fingers again to the same reaction. “It’s like that is it?” Without giving any time for Bucky to even free up his mouth, never mind reply, Steve clamped his hand down on the back of his neck and hauled him close. Breathing heavily into one ear he tested, low and infinitely calm, "You'll call me whatever I tell you to call me, soldier."

Steve held his breath just for a moment before he felt Bucky's knees wobble and a soft curse rent the tense air. Steve leaned back and looked him dead in the eye.

“And if it is?” Bucky panted, hands lax against Steve chest, “Like that?” hips rolling at the sudden electric charge in the air.

“Depends,” Steve leaned back in to nip at his lips, “Was it the pain or the control that made you make that noise?” It was a bold question but Steve couldn’t help but ask. He needed to know. Whatever the answer he could work with it, but the part of him that loved being in control, the part that made him such a good captain, was buzzing at the way Bucky had responded to his orders. He wanted to keep giving them.

*

Bucky squirmed, trapped by the grip on his neck, painfully aroused and slightly alarmed at just how easily he’d been picked apart. “Both,” he admitted quietly to the question. It was a bit of a gamble, admitting he liked pain to a virtual stranger, but the way fingers dug deep into his hip made him shiver deep down. He didn’t think Steve would be the type to hurt too bad, just enough.

A soft hum vibrated across his mouth, then Steve was pulling back slightly. His eyes were calculating in a way that Bucky hadn’t seen yet. Eyes roved over his face, hot and searching until apparently a decision was made. “In that case,” Steve’s voice was smooth as velvet. “You are going to give me another lap dance, but this time I’m going to do whatever I want to you during it. How does that sound?” There was a flush high on his cheekbones as he said it, his body betraying uncertainty in a way his practiced captain voice didn’t.

The words alone were enough to make Bucky shudder. Instead of agreeing however, he pressed one last lingering kiss to Steve’s lips then slipped off Steve’s lap. His hands dipped to his belt and he flicked it open. With the action however came the attitude. Biting his lip coyly he lowered his lashes and taunted, “I’m not sure you’ve earned me yet. You’ve seen me basically naked but all I’ve seen are your tits. Where is my show?”

One incredulous eyebrow rose before a slow smile crossed Steve’s face. Standing abruptly, crowding into Bucky’s space he breathed, “I should have known you didn’t know how to follow orders.” He hooked a finger into Bucky’s jeans. “How many times were you told to drop and do push ups?”

“Not as many times as people have asked me to drop for other reasons,” Bucky retorted wickedly.

“I see,” Steve replied. “Pushing up on other things is more your MO these days.”

“Not just these days,” Bucky smirked, “I was a _very_ good boy in the army.”

“Well then, sergeant,” Steve felt himself straighten and get into the mindset he usually let go of when he wasn’t on active duty. “As ranking officer captain, I'm going to need proof of these claims. I’m in command of your skills, and all I’ve seen so far is a lot of talk and no action. But since I’m generous, I'll give you one more chance to follow orders.” He used his thumb to flick open Bucky’s jeans then stepped back. “When I sit back down, you are going to take off those jeans and that shirt and crawl into my lap and show me exactly what you can do with those hips, and if you do a good enough job, maybe I'll do you the favour of giving you that tip you wanted."

Bucky's grey eyes widened at the words and for once he was the one flushing.

*

Steve felt the rest of the hesitation and nerves that'd been coursing through him all night disappear at the sight of Bucky’s blush. He’d found his mission strategy and he had orders to give. Just because the mission was sex the end goal was mutual satisfaction didn't change anything. Steve was all too willing to do the _work_. Although perhaps work wasn’t the right word. It might take energy and commitment but it was hardly a chore.

Strategy settled, Steve stepped back and undid his buckle, slipping his belt through the loops and letting it drop to the floor without breaking eye contact. Then he slowly sat on the edge of the bed, unzipped his jeans and patted his lap with an arched brow all without saying a word.

*

Bucky felt like his blood was on fire. Steve well and truly had his number. Bucky had gone and admitted what he liked and the man had stepped up to the plate. What had happened to the blushing, gorgeous idiot at the club and who had replaced him with this? He suddenly understood better why Natasha would follow this man. He wasn't dumb. He just hid his intellect behind an aw shucks expression and a blush. And then when you thought you had the upper hand, he turned out to be a smirking asshole that Bucky wanted to fall on his knees for.

Weak kneed but still determined not to be shown up completely, Bucky gave himself a mental shake and decided to go with it for now. He'd be good, lord he wanted to be good, but he could be good without behaving completely. Besides he had a few..things...stored up his sleeve. Steve didn't own him yet.

As slow as possible, Bucky slid his zipper down, wiggling his hips in a way that he knew drove both men and women wild, then with a wink he inched them over his thighs. He smirked at the moment Steve realized what he had on underneath, then twisted to bend over, ass out, to step out of his jeans. The scrap of silk could hardly be called underwear, but once he knew he was going home with Steve he'd redressed with one of his skimpiest set pieces under his clothes.

The sharp inhale Steve gave only spurred Bucky on. He stayed bent over for longer than necessary to pull off his socks and then straightened with a stretch, the action pulling up his shirt to give Steve a good look. Then, licking his lips, he lifted his t-shirt, loose on purpose to hide the harness he'd worn underneath. He'd seen the way Steve eyes had tracked it at the club and so he'd kept it on. Judging by the pure hunger in Steve's eyes as he pulled his shirt off he knew he'd made the right decision. He watched as Steve's giant hands clenched, then forcibly relaxed before they were once more patting at thick thighs.

Bucky could have argued, could have balked and drawn it out, but the heat of Steve's unwavering gaze felt like a string tugging him forward until he found himself snug over Steve's lap, jeans rough in a delicious way on the soft skin of his inner thighs. Palms slid up the backs of his legs, calloused fingers smoothing until they settled warm and possessive on Bucky's ass. A low groan met his ears as the hands squeezed.

"Christ your skin is smooth everywhere," Steve bit out.

“I exfoliate,” Bucky blurted.

Steve snorted at the line. “I appreciate,” he replied, his thumbs stroking Bucky’s hip bones.

His gaze slid down to where his hands rested on soft skin. Bucky knew it was a luxurious experience, because he sometimes indulged in pawing at himself. There was nothing better than silk, leather and acres of soft skin. Especially when you also had a very keen partner to touch it all for you—which Steve was currently doing with long, strong strokes.

After a thorough exploration was complete, bold fingers worked under the hip strap of his barely-there panties and let it snap back against one hip bone. Bucky let out a tiny gasp and watched Steve grin.

“Ow,” Bucky put a pout on his face. “That hurt.”

“Good,” Steve mumbled into his neck. “That was payment for being a tease.”

Arching one brow and looping his arms around Steve’s shoulders, Bucky rolled his hips slow and sinuously. Grinding down he whispered, “Most people pay me for teasing them with dollar bills.”

“From what I understand,” Steve teased back, “you don’t invite _most people_ up to your apartment to fuck you, so I think I’ll stick with my form of payment.” He punctuated his words with a soft smack to the pale skin of Bucky’s ass and received a low moan and a jerk of hips in return.

*

Bucky wanted to argue, the words were right there on the tip of his tongue, but instead he found himself moaning, “please.” Steve paused underneath him for a split second, then the hand came down again, harder this time. Bucky couldn’t help the whimper that slid from his mouth, nor could he help the way his dick jumped in his panties. He was so fucking hard already, he was going to ruin the silk and the set had been expensive.

There was something decadent about the thought, the idea that he was too turned on to even care about the fact that he didn’t have the money to replace them. Maybe he’d make Steve buy him a new pair. Bucky shuddered at the thought. Whining softly at another smack, sure his ass was turning rosy red, he panted into the damp skin of Steve’s chest, “if you ruin this outfit you are buying me a new one.”

Another smack, this one so hard it made Bucky lose his balance and fall completely into Steve. From beneath him, Bucky felt, rather than heard, Steve’s breath catch. Then hands were clamping tight against his hips and Steve was standing with barely any effort. He held Bucky there for a second, then spun and dropped him unceremoniously onto the center of the bed.

Fingers wrapped around Bucky’s ankles and pulled them apart, Steve settling himself between Bucky’s thighs without a word and grinding down harshly. He found himself pulled into a demanding kiss, harsh and unforgiving. It was heavenly. Then, just as Bucky was arching his back and pushing for more, Steve pulled away.

Bracing himself up, overtop of Bucky, Steve just took in his fill. Then, all teasing gone, he asked, “And if I wanted to ruin you? If I wanted to mark you up? Make it so you couldn’t go to work without everyone seeing what I did to you? What would I have to buy you then?”

“Fuck,” Bucky whispered. The thought alone had him shivering. There were a lot of ways Steve could take him apart and mar his skin. The ideas tumbling through his brain had him reeling. Bucky was far from a small man and yet Steve had picked him up like he weighed nothing. He wanted whatever Steve could dish out. Licking his lips he added, “I’d let you ruin me for free."

It was a bold statement, but judging by the way Steve’s eyes darkened, it was the right one. He was rewarded by a calculating expression then the words, “You got a safeword soldier?”

“Am I going to need one?” Bucky asked, breathless.

He was rewarded with a stern look that made his insides shiver. One hand came to rest against his throat, thumb just stroking his adam’s apple. “That depends,” Steve answered seriously. “We could stop here if you want, or just keep things simple and sweet.” He pressed down lightly with his thumb and Bucky shuddered at the feeling. Steve arched an eyebrow at him and continued. “Or we can continue how things have been going and you can either give me a safeword or we can use the stop light system. Up to you.”

The thumb stroked over his throat again, teasing. Bucky moaned quietly and shut his eyes for a second, savouring the feeling. “Okay,” he relented. “Stop light system.” He opened his eyes to see Steve grinning down at him, the expression on his face both earnest and proud in a way that Bucky hated to admit made him want to squirm in pleasure. He groaned louder this time and muttered, “Now, enough with the boy scout shit. Go back to the hardass army ranger captain please.”

Steve continued to grin down at him before teasing, “Well something is hard and going in your ass at least.”

Bucky scrunched his nose and closed his eyes as he let out a low, deeply displeased groan. “God. That was the worst one yet,” he muttered. Peeking one eye open he added, “but yes please. I’m up for a little tactical insertion.”

Steve’s head thunked down onto Bucky’s chest, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Grinning up at the ceiling, Bucky bit his lip and tried to keep his laughter contained. God how did Steve manage to make him laugh and want to shudder apart all at once. It was cruel and perfect.

Still chuckling softly, Steve finally lifted his head, eyes bright with mirth. It was a gorgeous look on him. Bucky felt his chest squeeze. There was no way he could fall for the man above him. Especially once or if he found out just who Bucky was. That in mind, Bucky brought his arms up to slide his hands over broad shoulders. Schooling his features he whispered, “Green by the way.”

The word was like a switch. Laughter faded as lips curved into an expression far more mischievous, even dangerous. Braced above him, Steve gave him a long perusal before nodding to himself and then fingers were tangling in Bucky’s hair, forcing his head back, slowly but inexorably, as Steve lowered his head once more. Lips brushed his throat, chased by the hint of teeth. There was a sharp nip over his collarbone, then another over his pec. Whimpering softly, Bucky revelled in the sting.

The next ten minutes were a mess of bites and kisses, until Bucky’s chest and belly felt like they were on fire. His nipples were sore, the harness he still wore digging into the swollen flesh of his chest.

When Steve finally lifted his mouth Bucky was a wreck. Blue eyes glittered down at him and Bucky fought the urge to bite his own fist just to stop himself from begging. His only comfort was that Steve didn’t look much better. The man looked like he was barely holding onto his control, and the thought was electrifying.

“Lube,” Steve’s voice was rough as he asked.

Turning his head to the side, Bucky nodded toward the drawer in his night stand.

Wrapping his fingers around the straps of the already tight harness Steve held him down effortlessly as he leaned over and pulled open the drawer. He pulled out a tube of lube and a string of condoms with one hand and tossed them onto the sheets. Then he was back to looming over Bucky, eyes intense. “Colour?” he asked.

“So fucking green,” Bucky retorted, arching into the fingers digging into his hips.

Seconds later the room was spinning as he was flipped effortlessly. He scrambled to get his knees under him even as a hand on the back of his neck forced him face down into the blankets. He barely managed to turn his face to the side, sheets bunching and sticking to his limbs as he was arranged without his input.

Steve’s hand on his neck slid lower, pushing his spine down into the bed as it passed over every knob of his vertebrae. When he reached Bucky’s hips however, he paused, then instead of pushing down he pulled up, forcing Bucky’s back to arch at unimaginable angles. He felt absurdly exposed for a man who took his clothes off for a living. But it was impossible not to when he felt the edges of his panties get pulled to the side, and calloused fingers slide over the revealed center. Hot breath bathed one cheek before teeth once more sunk into his skin, this time deep enough to bruise.

A soft cry broke from Bucky’s bitten lips. “Fuck,” he whimpered.

“That is the idea,” Steve replied, even as his tongue soothed the bite. There was a click of a cap and then slick fingers brushed against Bucky’s entrance. He bit his lip to stop a whine as they stroked softly before one slowly pushed in.

Steve’s hands were large and strong, and he barely paused as he slowly pushed deeper inside. Bucky tried his best to stay relaxed and pliant even while his body began to seize up with a combination of anticipation and waves of pleasure.

One finger quickly became two. Then a third wiggled it's way in without a word of warning. Bucky keened.

"Christ," Steve murmured. "Look at you. I've been wanting to do this since you walked out on stage in that bastardized uniform." He slid his fingers out then shoved them back in. The slick sounds all but swallowed in the high pitched whine Bucky let out.

Steve groaned at the noise. "I should punish you for destroying your fatigues like that."

"Please," Bucky begged softly.

"Please what?" Steve traced his thumb around the rim stretched about his fingers. "Punish you? Or keep doing this?" He curled his fingers, hooking them deep and stroking. Bucky's knees crumbled and only Steve's tight grip on his hip kept him in position.

*

Bucky wanted to answer Steve but all the air had left his lungs. His cock was dripping into his bedspread, poking out from it's silk confines and making a mess out of his sheets. Steve hadn't even fucked him yet and he already felt pulled apart. It felt so good. Like Steve had taken the coil of anxiety constantly wrapped around his gut and smoothed it away with a few orders and a set of talented fingers.

There was a reason Bucky had been a good soldier. He liked orders. He liked the rigidity of the uniform and the rules in place and his place within them. He was ordered on a mission? He went. He was ordered to shoot someone? He shot. There was a simplicity in doing what he was told that made his mind go pleasantly blank and his body respond. It was just that outside of the army he'd had to find his own way for the first time since he was 18, with minimal skills besides killing. Finding people to trust enough to show them his back was a nightmare. And yet here he was, face pressed into the sheets and a captain behind him once more, giving orders. These ones, however, were far more pleasant than the last ones he'd received in the army.

He was pulled from the thoughts by a sudden sharp pain on his thigh. "Focus on me, soldier," Steve ordered, thumb rubbing the bright red mark his palm had made.

"Hard to focus on anything else," Bucky managed to slur out.

"Is that so?" Steve gave him another swat, drawing out a yelp. "Then answer the question."

There was a question? Bucky could barely remember. He wriggled at one more stinging slap. "Please what?" Steve prompted sternly.

"Oh." Bucky melted back into the bed. "Please. Fuck me."

“Since you asked so politely,” Steve answered as Bucky heard the crinkle of a condom wrapper being torn open. He’d barely been prepped and it was perfect, he wanted the sting.

Holding his breath, he felt the head of Steve’s cock brush his entrance, and then pause. Guessing at what was about to come out of Steve’s mouth, Bucky blurted, “If you ask me what color I am, I’m going to bite you.”

Steve snorted. Then fingers were curling in Bucky’s hair and tugging back, hard and sharp just as Steve slammed in. Bucky shouted. Curses falling from his lips even as he shuddered helplessly at the feeling.

“What was that? You were gonna tell me what color you were?” Steve purred into his ear, licking the shell then clamping his teeth on the delicate skin of his earlobe.

“M’fucking bite you,” Bucky grunted, back bent and head held tight by his hair, back pressed against a sweaty chest as they knelt there on the sheets. He was throbbing inside, hot and burning and it felt like heaven. One large palm wrapped around his throat from behind as the fingers untangled from his hair. He was held there, the warning clear but the touch gentle as the other hand slid down to his hip.

There was a soft squeeze against his Adam's apple as Bucky opened his mouth to talk. “Do I need to gag you?” Steve asked softly. “I’d hate to think I’d have to shut you up when you make such pretty sounds with your mouth free.”

The idea had Bucky’s head spinning and part of him wanted it, but not now. Maybe the next time and he prayed there would be a next time. He had no idea how long Steve would be around for, or even if he’d want to do this again. Bucky hoped so. They’d barely even started and he was already craving the next time.

The length inside him withdrew slowly then slammed back in, just as the hand on his throat squeezed. Bucky wailed. “Well?” Steve asked.

Confused, Bucky tried to think past the pleasant haze slowly suffusing his brain. He made a questioning noise, licking his lips and opening his mouth.

Chuckling softly against his cheek, Steve nuzzled the sweaty skin then repeated, “Do I need to gag you or are you going to keep your teeth to yourself so I can hear you.”

“I’ll be good,” Bucky gasped. Christ if anyone ever saw him like this he’d lose all respectability and at the moment he didn’t care. All he cared about was the way Steve was wrapped around him and in him.

“Mm, Good boy”.

*

The words fell out of Steve’s mouth before he could help himself. It was too far, he was sure it was. But Bucky just moaned helplessly in his arms and arched his back, ass wriggling closer and pulling Steve in. Steve was going to owe Natasha an arsenal of weapons for this. For introducing him to the perfection in his arms. It was a terrifying thought, just as terrifying as the idea that Steve might fuck this up. Figuratively at least. Literally he was already balls deep in Bucky’s ass.

So far however, Bucky had responded beautifully to everything Steve had done. He was a livewire, squirming and panting and swearing and Steve had to fight the urge to just squeeze him tight and never let him go. Groaning lowly, he slid his hand down from Bucky’s throat and over his chest, grazing his fingers over the black harness that had nearly made Steve come in his jeans. Slipping his thumb under the tight leather and pulling it even more taut, he pinched a hard nipple between his fingers, squeezing it tight and reveling in the tiny mewl that Bucky let out at the sensation. He was so damn sensitive. It was gorgeous.

Wrapping one arm tighter around the body under his, Steve hauled upwards, feeling Bucky’s head toss into his shoulder. Putting his mouth on whatever flesh he could reach, he let himself sink into the change in grip, Bucky’s body molding sweetly wherever he put him, pliant and soft. Steve could feel the muscles in his abdomen straining and practically taste the flush flooding the skin of his neck when a high, soft whine left Bucky’s lips.

The view was fantastic, the red skin pinched and swollen from earlier teeth, the slick abs heaving with every shuddering breath Bucky took, the cock hard and dripping slapping against his stomach. Reaching down Steve stroked one finger up it’s length. “Just look at you,” he praised. “So hard for me. You love this.”

It wasn’t a question but Bucky answered anyway, the “yes” falling from his red lips and Steve drank it up. It was the sort of power rush he received on the battlefield, only this was all pleasure, no guns. Bucky was so hot around him, squeezing him impossibly tight. The control Steve had was heady and addicting. There was a reason he ordered people around for a living.

“Yes, what?” He couldn’t help himself from asking. When Bucky just made another confused sound, Steve elaborated. “Come on soldier,” he prompted. “What do you call your superiors?”

There was a pause, a moment where Bucky stiffened and Steve was afraid he’d once more pushed too far and then Bucky was melting in his arms. “Sir,” the word was whispered.

Steve was the one shuddering this time. Releasing the tight clasp of his arms he shoved Bucky face first back into the sheets, following him heavily. Pinning him there he began to thrust in earnest, fucking into the body underneath him with everything he had until Bucky was a sobbing, needy mess under him.

Shoving a hand between the sheets and sweaty skin, he wrapped his fingers around Bucky’s length and began to stroke in time with every punch of his hips until Bucky was gasping underneath him, Sir’s and pleas falling from his lips in a jumbled mess.

Steve released him to slide his arm beneath one long, smooth leg and hoist it upwards, tipping Bucky onto his side just enough to see what he was doing, revelling in the way Bucky’s limbs simply gave—he was certainly as flexible as any stripper Steve had ever witnessed. He wrapped two fingers tight around the base of Bucky’s flushed cock, squeezing rhythmically instead of stroking, letting his grip become uncomfortably tight as he continued to thrust.

The sounds falling from Bucky’s mouth turned tight, “S-Sir,” drifted off into a pained exclamation when Steve’s fingers tightened and stayed tight, feeling the balls against his palm tighten and stay tight, fighting for release, the muscles of Bucky’s thigh spasming against his forearm.

“Mm?” Steve prompted. “What was that? Did you want something”

“Fucking sadist,” Bucky panted. “Please - _please_. Fuck.”

“I am fucking you,” Steve kept his voice steady even though he was far from. The words drew the desired reaction however and Bucky swore some more. “You want something else you gotta ask for it.”

A frustrated growl rent the room and Bucky suddenly wasn’t so compliant any more, desperation clenching his fists as he pushed back against the cock deep in his ass, “Let me fucking come,” He demanded, gritting his teeth, hands dipping down to grasp at Steve’s arm.

Steve’s teeth dug into his shoulder and Bucky yelped as the fingers around his cock squeezed painfully tight. “Color?” Steve asked as he tortured.

“Fuck,” Bucky wanted to come but at the same time... “Fucking green, you goddam bastard.”

“Such a good boy,” Steve licked the area he’d bit. “Answering me honestly even though you’re calling me names. I’m not sure you deserve to come after that.”

“Please,” Bucky’s voice broke on the word. “Sir. Please. I can’t”

“I think you can,” Steve murmured. “But since you asked so prettily,” he released his grip and Bucky came with a surprised shout. His back bowed, nails digging into Steve’s forearm as come splashed over his belly.

Steve gave him a one second reprieve before he gripped Bucky’s hips hard, pulling out and slamming him back down onto the mattress. He grabbed shuddering thighs and pulled them apart before sliding between them and back in. Bucky was still shaking, muscles spasming around him. Steve didn’t give him time to recover, just shoved in deep, making Bucky holler as he nailed his prostate. The sensation had to be too much but the other didn’t tap out, didn’t say red, or even yellow. Just wailed softly until Steve stiffened above him and let himself go.

***

Panting into the muggy air, sweaty limbs tangled, and heart trying to return to a normal pace, Bucky felt like someone had plucked out his spine and left him lying there in a puddle with Steve’s weight draped across him. How the night had turned out into this he had no idea but he was glad. He’d gone to work tired and cranky, hoping to earn a hefty amount in tips and call it a night. Instead he’d brought a blond Adonis home and had his insides rearranged in the most perfect of ways.

Damp breath puffed against his cheek. “M’ heavy?” was mumbled into his skin.

Huffing, Bucky shook his head. “Yes. But I don’t mind. Stay.”

“Too tired to move. Not going anywhere,” Steve grumbled. “Least not unless you want me to leave. Otherwise I’m staying here forever.”

Bucky snorted. “I might need you to move before forever. Eventually this mess is gonna dry and as charming as you are I don’t want to be literally stuck together with bodily fluids.”

One of Steve’s eyes cracked open and peered at him. “Want me to get a wet cloth?”

Pondering it for a moment, enjoying the weight and sweat before it turned hot and sticky, he finally shrugged. “Soon. Not yet.”

“Kay,” Steve muttered and closed his eyes again, cuddling closer. For a man who looked like he could break down a door without breaking a sweat, and had fucked Bucky bruised and sore, he certainly was a cuddler. Bucky didn’t mind. The affection was nice. The sex had been mind blowing, but the quiet afterglow was making his breath catch in ways that had nothing to do with the weight draped over him.

A few minutes however the cum on his belly was cold and tacky, grimacing he shifted. “About that towel.”

“On it,” Steve muttered from where his face was smushed into the curve of Bucky’s neck. He didn’t move however, just laid there for another solid minute before finally pushing himself up to his elbows. He gazed down at Bucky, hair a ruffled mess, lips quirked into a sleepy smile. “I could just lick you clean you know.”

Huffing out a laugh, Bucky smacked him on the chest and attempted to wriggle out from under him. “Get off, you oaf. Go get me a cloth. My legs don’t work anymore.”

“And mine do?” Steve asked even as he got up.

“You lead an elite army unit into battle,” Bucky deadpanned. “And I danced all night, then had that giant weapon you call a dick shoved up my ass. Go get me a towel.”

“Ohhh, giant is it?” Steve grinned at him and shoved himself the rest of the way to his feet. He stumbled to the bathroom, tossed the condom in the trash then found a cloth in the small linen closet, running it under warm water and wiping himself off before tossing it in the laundry basket and getting a clean one to wet for Bucky.

Poking his head out of the door he called, “Need anything else princess?”

The pillow Bucky threw just about hit Steve in the face. Picking it up and laughing, Steve brought the pillow back along with the damp cloth. The leg that Bucky kicked out at him half heartedly was caught effortlessly, before Steve slowly and thoroughly wiped Bucky off until he was squirming and trying to get away.

“Too much,” Bucky whined.

Laughing softly, Steve threw the cloth in the direction of the bathroom. Fingers slowly worked the buckles on his harness until it was pulled off gently. The ruined panties were tugged over his hips and then Bucky was tugged into Steve’s arms, as he settled down on the bed and arranged them as he saw fit. Bucky offered up a few words of protest, but let himself get pulled around until he was the one lying on Steve’s chest.

“Was that too much?” Steve asked quietly, unease hiding in his expression.

Bucky shook his head, not wanting to admit just how rattled the situation had made him, but also how perfect it was. Instead he just cleared his throat and whispered, “It was good.”

“Just good?” Steve laughed as Bucky opened one eye to glare at him.

“Alright, I guess,” Bucky retorted. “I mean, I’ve had better.”

Steve’s eyebrows arched “Oh really?”

He was teasing but there was a bit of hesitation in his eyes, a ghost of the unsure man at the bar. Bucky immediately wanted to erase it. “No,” he answered honestly. “I haven’t.”

The words made Steve grin, bright and devious. It made Bucky want to squirm, but he held the urge and instead just shut his eyes and burrowed his face into Steve’s neck. “Don’t even say it.” He muttered.

Steve huffed out a small laugh and just squeezed Bucky closer. “If it helps,” he said seriously, “That was the best sex I’ve had in my entire life.” It was spoken earnestly, high colour dusting across Steve’s nose and cheekbones and eyes soft as he spoke.

“Ugh,” Bucky blushed. “Stop being a boy scout and being all wholesome. You just fucked me raw and you’re looking at me like I gave you my last chocolate bar. It's embarrassing. ”

Snorting, Steve just shook his head and pressed a kiss to the top of Bucky’s hair. “I never was a boy scout,” Steve continued earnestly. “I was a city boy. Too busy defending stray cats and getting into fights to join the scouts.”

Bucky pulled back to look at him, interested. “New York?”

“Brooklyn,” Steve replied. “You?”

Bucky blinked. “Same,” he answered. “Minus the defending cats. Too busy defending my sisters from creeps until I signed up at 18.”

"So what made you switch from soldier to stripper?" Steve asked idly. When Bucky immediately stiffened he quickly added, "not that there's anything wrong with being a stripper! Honestly. I mean, you are phenomenal at it and I'm not judging or anything, it's just a big career change and I was only curious. Natasha said to ask?" Steve ended the rambling tirade on a question, feeling like he was shoving his foot deeper down his own throat with every word.

Bucky tensed even further. It was so damn stupid of him to bring up the army. Why had he done that? Groaning lowly he slumped back down, "Nat said to ask. Of course she did.” Bucky knew she wouldn’t tell, he hadn’t even considered that she would have, but of course she couldn’t leave well enough alone either. At the moment he almost wished she had told Steve everything, just so he didn’t have to have this conversation and deal with the fallout. He didn’t want Steve to leave. He could lie of course. The moment was there. Natasha would probably even cover for him if he did, but she’d give him that look in the process. The one that made Bucky feel even smaller than he normally did.

Steve was frowning at him though, and he looked so damn earnest that the lies died before they even started. “She told me you were a sniper in the rangers, anything else she said that if I wanted to know, I should ask you.”

Giving an unhappy little laugh, Bucky pulled away. Scooting backward until he hit the edge of the bed, he sat up and swung his legs over the edge. Sitting there, back slumped he muttered, “I didn’t leave the army willingly, Steve. I was dishonourably discharged.”

It was quiet for several moments before Bucky heard the sheets shifting as Steve moved behind him. He held his breath. A few seconds later Steve was sitting beside him, bare shoulders brushing. There was another moment of quiet where Bucky could feel Steve’s gaze on him, then Steve asked quietly, “What happened?”

Bucky looked up briefly, then back down at his lap. He gave another snort. “Officially?” he asked bitterly.

Steve surprised him. Giving snort of his own he answered wryly, “Of all people, I know just how bullshit official reports are. What really happened?”

Bucky stared at him. “Just like that?” he asked incredulously. “I tell you I was dishonorably discharged and you just ask what really happened?”

Meeting his eyes, Steve held his gaze seriously. Then he answered slowly, “You hold Natasha’s trust and friendship. That is worth more to me than the word of some higher ups trying to save their own ass. I’ve seen it before. So again. What actually happened?”

Disbelieving, Bucky just stared some more before looking back down at his hands. He shrugged and gave a bitter snort. “What actually happened? I don’t even know anymore. Nat went in and shit went wrong, I was her backup. There was a mole, something, because Nat doesn’t make mistakes, but someone blew her cover. They were going to execute her. I was told to stand down, that the mission was more important. I ignored it.” He clenched his fists as he spoke. Then, voice hard, added, “Apparently the life of a weapon's dealer was more important than the life of a soldier. He wasn’t even a big fish, he was a small time dealer that _might_ have led us to a bigger one. They caught the mole, it was her goddam handler. He said he only set her up because he knew it was only a matter of time before she’d figure out it was him all along.”

Bucky shrugged. “The army didn’t want to admit they had a mole. That one of their own was trading weapons. So they instead blamed it on the sniper who shot without permission. Told me I was out of line, out of work and out of benefits. I suppose I’m lucky they didn’t throw me in prison.”

“Fuck that,” Steve muttered behind him, low and angry. Flinching, Bucky looked behind him and saw that Steve looked furious. At Bucky’s expression however, the anger fled, concern taking its place. “Not you. Fuck.” Steve reached forward and hauled Bucky close. Too confused to resist, Bucky let himself get hauled into the others lap.

*

“I should have said ‘Fuck them’,” Steve growled once Bucky was in his lap. “That, and thank you.”

Bucky stared at him, perplextion evident.

“For saving Nat.” Steve clarified. “For doing the right fucking thing, for saving one of my best friends, for having some goddam morals.”

“Oh,” Bucky still looked baffled, but relief was also shining through in the way he melted into Steve’s arms. Squeezing him tight, Steve laid down, pulling Bucky with him and arranging them under the covers.

Steve had a thousand questions, a million. Who had been Bucky’s captain? Who had called the shots? Who was the mole? He wanted to demand those answers so he could rage at those men, but he didn’t ask, not yet. Instead he held his anger in check and just held the other man close, trying to make his gratefulness clear. Bucky had saved Natasha’s life and in turn Natasha had saved Steve’s team multiple times. She was brilliant and beautiful, and Steve didn’t know what he’d do without her. She was his right hand man. Steve probably wouldn’t have been alive without her, and to know that was all because Bucky had disobeyed orders to save her life, and had gotten a dishonorable discharge for it, was overwhelming.

Running his hands down Bucky’s back he cleared his throat and, voice rough, said, “Thank you for your service soldier. You have no idea how much I mean that.”

He felt Bucky shudder in his arms and there was a soft sounding sob. Squeezing him tight, Steve ordered softly, “Go to sleep, I’ll watch your back. We can talk in the morning.”

Bucky looked up, eyes suspiciously wet. “You’ll be here?” he asked hesitantly.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Steve replied.

***

Natasha woke up to the beep of her phone. Groaning she groped around to read the glowing screen.

_Debrief 1300, we are fixing this shit._

She gave a low laugh and rolled over. She used her toe to nudge the body beside her and when bleary eyes opened she crooned, “Step one done.”

“Whaa?” came the confused answer.

She shoved the phone forward and Sam groaned as he read it. Grabbing a pillow he shoved it over his face and muttered, “I hate you both. Fucking meddling meddlers...”

Laughing brightly Natasha tossed the phone away and curled closer. “Tell me some more about how you hate me,” she purred. “I dare you.”

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> I am not entirely sure how this was born anymore.. It may have started out as a joke and ended up as 14k words of semi-serious porn. The Bucky Stripper AU no one asked for but got anyway. Please love on me if you didn’t hate it? I am struggling with coming back to writing and I need all the love I can get.   
> Many thanks to my trio of writing cheerleaders who forced me to write this as well as gave me constant encouragement and notes and demands and then edited it all for me. I’m looking at you [@Scrambledscript](https://twitter.com/scrambledscript), [@Weaponized](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weaponized/pseuds/Weaponized), [@Pigeon](https://twitter.com/sublimepigeon)  
>  ****  
> ART IS BY THE WONDERFUL[kocuria](https://kocuria.tumblr.com/)
> 
> And if you so desire, I am on twitter [@brokenintowords](https://twitter.com/brokenintowords)


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